


you're spring to me

by pinlilli



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Eggsy Unwin, Autofellatio, Bottom Harry, Cock Warming, Daddy Kink, Endearments, Established Relationship, Face-Sitting, Gentle Dom Harry Hart, Kinktober 2017, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Omega Harry, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Shy Eggsy, Somnophilia, Sub Eggsy Unwin, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-16 09:23:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12339918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinlilli/pseuds/pinlilli
Summary: Harry smooths a hand down the curve of Eggsy’s back and digs his fingers into the fleshy swell of his ass. His thumb buries into the hot crevice to rub at the furled entrance.Eggsy pulls away from the kiss with a breathless laugh but he’s arching into the touch. “Harry, you dog. Haven’t you had enough?”“Dear boy, the day I can’t get it up for you is the day I’m on my deathbed,” Harry replies.Hartwin Kinktober fills.





	1. Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into the Kingsman fandom! I have no idea what I’m doing, but I read a disgusting amount of fics after watching TGC and I think it’s finally time for me to contribute to fandom. Every pairing could use a little more porn :D
> 
> I started Kinktober late and I am The Slowest at writing smut, so I’m either going to write as much as I can before the month is up, or continue into November. This will mostly be sweet, subby (and mouthy) Eggsy and a Harry who’s all too willing to give his boy the love he deserves, but I have plans for power bottom Harry as well. Enjoy!
> 
> Prompt list [here.](https://kinktober2017.tumblr.com) Requests are welcome.

It just… slips out.

It’s something that’s been swirling around in his head for a long while. Ever since he first saw Harry beat up Dean’s goons, really. He had sat there with his eyes wide and jaw slack. Thighs pressed together to keep himself from coming in his briefs at the sight of his knight-in-shining armour slaying every demon that’s ever tormented him. He wobbled out of the pub and ducked into an alley where he jerked himself off, furtive and fast. He came in two seconds flat, sliding down the brick wall as his knees gave out beneath him. Shaking like a goddamned earthquake. Blood thrumming with adrenaline, as though he was the one who had gotten into the bar fight.

After everything Harry’s done for him, it’s only natural for him to associate Harry with comfort and safety—the one true constant in the hurricane that is his life. Harry cooks him breakfast in bed and brings back souvenirs from his missions. His fingers are sure and careful when he tends to Eggsy’s wounds. Eggsy soaks it up like a sunflower starved for the sun, making up for the first twenty years of his life spent without much affection. It’s not that he sees Harry as the dad he never had—that’d be pretty messed up, considering they fuck at every available opportunity. It’s just that Harry spoils and babies him and Eggsy loves it.

He keeps his desire close to his heart. Bites down on the first knuckle of his fist as he comes so the word doesn’t burst forth as his orgasm rushes through him. Sometimes, when he’s alone and desperate, and Harry is on the other side of the globe, he’ll allow himself the indulgence. He’ll let himself whisper it as he works a dildo in and out of himself, nose buried in one of Harry’s shirts. He doesn’t make a habit of it though. Seems like a bad thing to make a habit of. 

He’s on his third orgasm of the hour and floating. He feels like a livewire, sparking with every one of Harry’s touches. It’s too much, the drag of Harry’s cock over his prostate, the tight circle of Harry’s fingers around his cock. His words have long since devolved into moans and whimpers. His orgasm builds inside him, an unbearable pressure that has his toes curling. 

He doesn’t realise what he’s said until Harry stops moving.

“What was that, darling?” Harry asks.

It’s like being dunked into cold water. He’s ripped from his fuzzy and pleasant headspace. Shame floods through him, flushing his cheeks with colour. He tries to curl up and make himself small, but Harry’s wedged between his thighs, keeping him open. “Nothin’,” he says, turning away so he doesn’t have to look at Harry. Oh god, he wants to die. “Was nothin’.”

“Eggsy.”

Eggsy whines and shakes his head. He hates saying no to Harry, but this part of him is so embarrassing. He _can’t_.

“Eggsy, say it.” 

When Harry’s voice gets authoritative like that, all tightly coiled control, it’s impossible to deny him. His mouth opens and closes around a syllable. Finally, he ekes out, “Daddy, please.”

Harry groans and Eggsy can’t help it. He shoots all over himself.

Harry chuckles, low and dirty. “There you go, my sweet boy,” he croons, stroking Eggsy through his orgasm. “You needed this, didn’t you? You should have told me, darling. I always take good care of you, don’t I?”

Harry’s thumb pushes along the underside of his length. Eggsy moans loudly, hips twitching as his cock blurts out another drop of wet. “Y-yeah.”

“Yes, what?”

Eggsy’s face gets even hotter. “Yes, Daddy,” he says. “You always give me what I need.”


	2. Sleepy Sex

Harry woke in the middle of the night, cock aching. Eggsy was still asleep. As usual, he had locked Harry into place with a heavy arm and thigh thrown over his waist. The sweet thing was actually drooling a little. All tuckered out after having orgasm after orgasm milked from his body. He didn’t even wake when Harry pulled himself free, instead rubbing his face into the pillow and snuffling. It wasn’t often they had an entire weekend to themselves. When they did, Harry made sure he forced every last drop of come out of Eggsy to make up for the long weeks they spent, and would spend, apart.

Harry smoothed a hand down the curve of Eggsy’s spine, lower and lower until he reached the swell of his ass. Slid two fingers inside, easy as anything. Eggsy was still loose and sloppy from earlier, wet with lube and come. His hole made squelching noises as Harry prodded around, searching for that walnut-sized bundle of nerves that would have Eggsy’s hips spasming. 

A small sleepy noise left Eggsy when Harry’s fingertips brushed over his prostate. He arched up into the touch and for a moment, Harry thought Eggsy had woken. A quick glance to his boy’s face however, showed that Eggsy was still conked out. He looked softer like this, cheek smushed against the pillow and lips parted.

Harry removed his fingers and lubed himself up. Draping himself over Eggsy like a blanket, he pushed inside, groaning at the hot clutch around his cock. He began to move, rolling his hips into the sleep-pliant body beneath him.

“‘Arry?” Eggsy mumbled. He craned his neck to look over his shoulder, blinking slow and heavy.

“Darling boy,” Harry murmured. “You’ve made me hard. You going to help me with this, hm? You going to make me feel good?”

Eggsy breathed a noise halfway between and sigh and a moan. He squirmed, pressing his ass up to meet the gentle thrusts. “Yeah, Harry. Always wanna make you feel good,” he slurred.

Harry dipped his head down to nuzzle the back of Eggsy’s neck. He pressed a kiss to the vulnerable skin behind his boy’s ear. “You sure it’s not too much? Be honest.”

“Hurts,” Eggsy admitted. “But ‘s good. I want it. Want you to feel good.”

Harry laughed. Fondness bloomed in his chest. “Hungry boy.” He ground his hips deep and hard, remaining buried into the hilt as he circled his hips so Eggsy could feel every single inch of him. 

Eggsy was absolutely precious like this, voice thick with sleep. Moaning sweetly every time Harry nudged against his prostate. Turning his head to catch Harry’s lips in an uncoordinated, open-mouthed kiss. This was the man who singlehandedly brought down entire gangs, thwarted terrorist plots, saved the goddamn _world_. 

And he was allowing himself to be used for Harry’s pleasure. 

The thought had Harry growling low in his chest. It got to him every time, how Eggsy would put always put Harry’s pleasure before his own. How he’d be happy just to make Harry come, even if he himself didn’t reach orgasm. God, Eggsy wanted it—he wanted to be used—spreading his thighs apart in request for more. Harry was powerless to do anything but oblige. Bracing himself on his elbows, he drove into Eggsy, setting a brutal pace that had Eggsy whining into his pillow.

“Oh fuck, Harry,” Eggsy moaned, voice wobbling every time Harry bottomed out. “Yeah, gimme it.”

Harry sunk his teeth into the meat of Eggsy’s shoulder. With a muffled moan, he began to come, emptying himself in his boy’s body. He continued to rock his hips back and forth, slower now, an echo of his earlier forceful rutting, riding out his orgasm. 

“Oh, you perfect creature,” he breathed, slipping free of Eggsy’s body and settling down beside him.

Eggsy immediately pressed in close and tucked himself under Harry’s chin. Harry curled an arm around him, keeping him close. It wasn’t long before Eggsy drifted off again, exhaling steady breaths over Harry’s skin.


	3. Overstimulation

It’s obscene, the sound of Harry working his fist over Eggsy’s cock. 

Harry looms over him, the blacks of his eyes blown wide with desire. His hair is darkened with sweat at the temples. A lock of hair has escaped from his careful part to curl over his forehead. He’s so beautiful and he’s looking at Eggsy like Eggsy is the most exquisite sight he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing. 

Times like this, Eggsy doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

“My gorgeous boy,” Harry says. “You have no idea how lovely you look.” He twists his wrist on the upstroke and that alone is enough to send Eggsy hurtling over the edge.

Eggsy comes with a loud moan, back arching off the mattress. His hips jerk with every spurt of his cock, creamy droplets that slide down Harry’s fingers. But Harry—he doesn’t stop. Instead, he closes his hand over the head of Eggsy’s cock and rubs mercilessly at it. It fucking _hurts_. Eggsy makes a wounded sound and tries to shove the offending hand away.

“I’m not done with you yet, Eggsy.” 

“Harry—”

“One more, darling,” Harry whispers, brushing a kiss over his sweaty temple. “Give me one more.”

“I can’t,” Eggsy sobs. He closes his knees and tries to shy away, but Harry is relentless.

“You can,” Harry insists. 

Eggsy’s thighs tremble; every goddamned inch of him trembles. He throws an arm around Harry and clings, fingers digging into his muscled back. It feels like he’s about to shake out of his own skin. He doesn’t want to disappoint. He wants to make Harry proud. He trusts Harry to know his limits and Harry always makes it so good for him.

Harry smears his thumb over the slit, concentrating his attention on the glistening, red crown of Eggsy’s cock. Eggsy squirms and whines, unsure if he wants more or if he’s truly had enough. Harry touches him like he owns him and Jesus, it gets him so hot. Harry demands, and Eggsy is helpless to do anything but deliver. So when Harry tells him to come, to give it up, Eggsy does. 

Eggsy makes a noise like it’s punched out of him. He squeezes his eyes shut and his mouth freezes in a rictus of pleasure-pain as his second orgasm unfurls from deep in his gut and floods through him. A distant part of him is aware of Harry groaning and crashing their lips together in a kiss that Eggsy struggles to return.

“Perfect,” Harry praises, gathering Eggsy into his arms. “You perfect little thing. It’s like you were made for me.”

Eggsy huffs weakly, trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Manages a smile. He likes the thought of that; of him being made for Harry, and of Harry being made for him.


	4. Tentacles (Bottom Harry)

Eggsy lies on his stomach, face smashed into his pillow. Sprouting out of the base of his tailbone are three tentacles. They wave and flick merrily behind him, at odds with his dour mood. 

The tentacles don’t seem to be dangerous now, though they have the capacity to be. The explosion at the laboratory that had resulted in him being covered in biohazardous sludge had also caused the exit to collapse. His newly-formed tentacles had wound around great concrete blocks, crushing them into rubble.

He’s since been released from medical. Harry sits on the bed beside him, playing with the curious appendages. His tentacles are a golden colour and as thick as a soda can at the base, tapering to a rounded point. They’re sensitive too, like the skin of his inner thighs. Every time Harry strokes them, it sends a shiver through him. 

Even his goddamned tentacles are charmed by Harry Hart. They vie for his attention, curling around his wrist and prodding at his hands. Harry is absolutely delighted by this, petting them in turn. He’s smiling that little smile of his, the one that shows his dimples and makes Eggsy’s heart ache.

“I’m glad one of us is having fun,” Eggsy says. 

Harry lets go of the tentacle he was fiddling with and has the grace to appear contrite. The minute twitching of his lips gives him away. 

“Oh fuck you,” Eggsy huffs. Hides his face in his pillow and grins. He can’t even stay mad, not when Harry is acting so fucking cute about this. He turns his head so he can watch Harry with one eye. “They like you.”

“I think I rather like them too,” Harry replies. His gaze is riveted to the appendages. One snakes around his thigh and Eggsy can feel Harry tense in his hold. The tip of the tentacle traces the inner seam of Harry’s trousers before sneaking beneath his shirt. 

Harry exhales with a shudder, eyes growing dark. 

“Harry,” Eggsy says, sitting up. “You kinky bastard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry says, but he’s blushing. Harry never blushes. Eggsy has to wine and dine and slather him with excessive endearments, and even then, Harry’s cheeks hardly colour.

“I know you, love,” Eggsy says. “There isn’t a phallic object out there you wouldn’t consider sticking up your arse.”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“No, I don’t think it is.”

Now that Harry has put the image in his head, Eggsy can’t think of anything else. He thinks about how easy it’d be to keep Harry pinned open now, like one of those butterflies he likes so much. Two tentacles around Harry’s ankle to keep him spread. The remaining appendage sliding between Harry’s legs, burrowing between fleshy ass cheeks, tip sinking into that rosebud hole. All the while Eggsy has one hand on his cock, and the other hand locked around Harry’s wrists over his head.

And perhaps, if Harry is willing—and Eggsy has a feeling he will be—while Eggsy is fucking him, he’ll slip in a tentacle alongside his cock. Harry would get so tight around him, would moan Eggsy’s name in that wrecked, breathless way of his. The thought is enough to make Eggsy fatten up in his pants.

Eggsy sets a hand on Harry’s chest and pushes him onto the bed, crawling over him to press their lips together. Harry tips his chin up to return the kiss, eager and sweet.

He wedges a hand between their bodies to ruck up Harry’s shirt. His tentatcles move in to grope Harry, one smoothing over his taut stomach, the other coiling around his waist. The tip of it sneaks into the waistband and tugs lightly. Harry moans into the crush of their mouths, arching into the touch. Already, Harry’s needy for it, and Eggsy can feel his erection nudging insistently at his hip. 

Eggsy parts just enough to speak. “Can I…?”

“Yes,” Harry says. “I already showered.”

Eggsy chuckles. “That’s a little presumptuous of you, ain’t it? I was laid up in medical and you were hoping I’d fuck you?”

“I always want you,” Harry says simply and Eggsy just about dies, he’s so in love. “I try to be prepared. Now, if you don’t mind…” Harry gives a pointed wiggle of his hips.


	5. Facesitting

Harry wakes alone in bed and to the sound of the shower running in the adjacent bathroom.

He could be happy like this, he thinks, waking in the home he shares with Eggsy and the sheets still warm from his lover’s body. Not being out in the field seems like a small price to pay for this sort of bliss. His age is catching up to him after all. A year ago, he wouldn’t have been able to imagine himself wiling away the hours in bed. 

It helps that Eggsy is a very time-consuming distraction. 

Eggsy emerges from the bathroom, a towel slung low on his narrow hips. His hair is still wet, curling over his forehead. His torso is littered with love bites, the red blooms a stark contrast against his pale skin. A smile breaks across his face when he catches sight of Harry watching him.

“Morning, love,” Eggsy says.

“Come here,” Harry says.

Eggsy saunters over. There’s a seductive sway to his gait, as though Harry doesn’t already find him so gorgeous it hurts. 

As Eggsy nears, Harry reaches up to cup the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss. Eggsy makes a soft, welcome noise against his mouth and slides atop him, his towel coming loose. 

Harry smooths a hand down the curve of Eggsy’s back and digs his fingers into the fleshy swell of his ass. His thumb buries into the hot crevice to rub at the furled entrance.

Eggsy pulls away from the kiss with a breathless laugh but he’s arching into the touch. “Harry, you dog. Haven’t you had enough?”

“Dear boy, the day I can’t get it up for you is the day I’m on my deathbed,” Harry replies. 

For someone who has been the recipient of brazen flirtations without batting his lashes, Eggsy lights up at the words. His entire body flushes pink, the colour creeping down his neck. “Sap,” he mutters.

“Get up here,” Harry says.

Eggsy braces his hands on Harry’s abdomen and throws a leg over him. He grins cheekily, towel slipping free to reveal his half-hard cock. He’s shaved bare, all that baby-soft skin exposed for Harry’s taking.

“Higher,” Harry says. He puts his hands on Eggsy’s hips and tugs him up. “On my face.”

“Harry,” Eggsy protests, bright red. He always puts up a bit of a fight when Harry wants to do this. Gets embarrassed having that much attention on him. Says he doesn’t like it when Harry isn’t feeling good, too. But Harry _does_ feel good, thriving on the helpless undulations of Eggsy’s hips over his mouth and the sinful noises he makes.

“I was rough with you last night, wasn’t I?” Harry asks.

“I liked it,” Eggsy mumbles.

“I imagine you must be feeling tender.”

“A little,” Eggsy admits. 

“Then let me kiss you better here, darling,” Harry says, pressing a fingertip to Eggsy’s hole. 

“Fuck, Harry,” Eggsy says, but he relents. Grasping the headboard, he plants his knees on either side of Harry’s head and lowers himself down. Harry’s mouth waters with anticipation and the moment his lips touch Eggsy is like taking communion.

He luxuriates in it, inhaling the clean scent of Eggsy’s skin and mouthing lightly there. He resists a smile. For someone who calls Harry a dog, Eggsy is always ready for it, cleaning himself thoroughly every time he showers. It’s adorable, is what it is.

Harry puts his nose to use, nudging it against the vulnerable skin of Eggsy’s taint. Then he closes his lips over that rosebud hole. Eggsy’s thighs tremble around him. He’s so shy, barely putting his weight on Harry and stifling his moans. Harry can tell he wants it though, judging by the way his hole twitches. He just needs a bit of encouragement. 

Harry kisses the little pucker and then laves the flat of his tongue over it. Warms Eggsy up with small kitten licks and a gentle scraping of teeth. 

“Oh god,” Eggsy chokes out above him, hips jerking. 

With a groan, Harry grasps Eggsy’s ass cheeks and spreads them apart. He circles his tongue around the rim and then eases the tip inside. It’s different, feeling Eggsy like this. Better, he might argue, since he can focus solely on Eggsy’s pleasure.

“Harry—” Eggsy gasps, voice hitching on a moan. 

This is what Harry loves the most: the way Eggsy gets so hot and sweet for it, opening up like a flower on his tongue despite his initial shyness. The sounds Eggsy makes are downright pornographic, wanton _uh uh uh_ ’s that go straight to Harry’s cock. Eggsy has always been vocal; wants everyone to know how good he’s getting it. But when Harry eats him out, god, he’s even louder.

It takes mere minutes for Eggsy to forget his restraint and begin to ride Harry’s face. It almost makes it hard for him to breathe. That’s when Harry knows he’s doing his boy right. Eggsy’s response to him only makes him hungrier for it. His cock aches to be stroked, but he’s unwilling to take his hands off Eggsy for even a second.

“Fuckin’ hell, Harry,” Eggsy groans. “Your tongue, Jesus.”

He eats Eggsy out with enthusiasm, growling into the hot clutch of him. It’s sloppy and not at all gentlemanly. Saliva coats his chin and makes Eggsy all wet. That sweet hole gets slick and loose enough for Harry to press in two fingers alongside his tongue. He holds Eggsy open like that, relentless even when his boy starts to clench around him. There’s a dull thunk as Eggsy tips forward to rest his forehead against the wall. 

“Oh god, Harry. Yeah, just like that. Come on, come on, please…”

He wants to ask Eggsy if he’s close, wants to talk his boy to orgasm and praise him through the tremors of his release. Instead, he curves his fingers in as deep as they’ll go. He rubs and prods around as he continues to suck and scrape his teeth over Eggsy’s hole. 

Eggsy’s whines heighten in pitch. When he comes, he makes a sound like he’s dying and grinds down hard. Harry can feel every twitch of his muscles as his orgasm shakes through him. It’s an exquisite thing, how Eggsy’s pucker flutters and flutters around Harry’s mouth; worth nearly suffocating for.

With one last reverberating moan, Eggsy dismounts. Harry barely has the time to mourn the loss before Eggsy is slithering down Harry’s body to take his cock into his mouth. 

Harry throws his head back and groans, fingers threading into Eggsy’s hair. He’s been teetering on the knife edge of gratification ever since Eggsy straddled his face. With his boy’s mouth tight around him and clever hands fondling his balls, it doesn’t take long for his pleasure to crest.

Eggsy must realise this, for he hollows out his cheekbones and sucks even harder. He glances up at Harry from beneath his lashes, eyes filled with adoration, and then he sinks down all the way to the hilt.

With a groan, Harry spurts down Eggsy’s throat. Eggsy swallows every last drop of him, humming as he does so.

Eggsy pulls off with a slurp that has Harry shuddering bodily. Eggsy licks his lips and crawls over him, collapsing atop his chest. Harry draws him into a languid kiss that they both smile into. It’s a perfect way to start the day, more essential to him than washing his face.

“You should let me do this for you more often,” Harry says once they’ve parted.

Eggsy laughs and tucks himself beneath Harry’s chin. “Maybe,” he allows shyly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Got carried away with this one. I hope it makes up for the days I missed :D


	6. Cock Warming

“Eggsy,” Harry says, a sharp reprimand.

Eggsy stops fidgeting. He tosses the fountain pen he was playing with onto the coffee table. With a heavy sigh, he slumps against the sofa and burrows into the hard cushions. He fixes Harry with a sullen gaze, lips drawn into a soft moue. His young age truly shows when he pouts like this. 

Harry finds it more adorable than it has any right to be.

“You’ve been signing shit for hours,” Eggsy says.

“An unfortunate part of the job,” Harry says. Over the months since his induction as Arthur, his signature has grown increasingly sloppy, the once careful loops of his H’s and Y’s devolving into squiggles. “You must be tired, Eggsy,” he says. Eggsy returned from a month long mission in Antarctica this morning, stepping off the plane and straight into Harry’s office. “Why don’t you head home? I’ll join you in two hours or so.”

“Yeah right. If I leave, you’ll just stay here all night.”

“Only so that I may take tomorrow off and spend it with you in bed,” Harry says.

Eggsy cracks a smile at that.

Harry returns his attention to the document in front of him. He gets a few minutes of quiet to work, the only sound that of his pen flowing over heavy paper. 

Then Eggsy starts shifting again. He’s making tiny discontented noises, failing to find a comfortable position. Fabric rustles. Harry doesn’t have to look up to know that Eggsy is making a mess of his shirt and trousers, wrinkling it to all hell.

He knows he hasn’t given his boy enough attention today. After spending a month apart, the rushed handjobs they gave each other during lunch isn’t enough to sustain them through the day. Eggsy needs to be played with for hours. Needs the comfort and release of the tightly-coiled stressed that has built up over the weeks. There’s a ball of tension lodged at the base of Harry neck and his back feels tight. It’s indicative of his years, yes, but also a sign that he needs to be close to Eggsy, too.

Harry sets down his pen and leans back in his chair. “Come here,” he says.

In his haste to comply, Eggsy nearly stumbles over his own feet.

Harry spreads his legs in invitation. “On your knees, darling.”

Eggsy folds to his knees. Without prompting, he says, “Thank you, Harry.” He fits himself between Harry’s knees and then pitches forward to nose along the front of Harry’s trousers. His breath leaves him in a shudder. He peers up at Harry from beneath his lashes. No matter how much he wants it—the sweet thing is shaking with his desire—he doesn’t reach for the belt. He hasn’t been given permission yet.

Harry unbuckles his belt and slides down his zipper. He takes his cock out and holds it an inch from Eggsy’s face. He’s still soft, but with Eggsy’s exhales puffing unsteadily over him, he’s starting to grow fat. 

“No sucking,” Harry reminds. 

Eggsy huffs, unhappy, but nods. He parts his lips.

Carefully, Harry guides himself into Eggsy’s waiting mouth.

Eggsy moans contentedly around him, his lashes fluttering closed. He rests his cheek against Harry’s thigh and then falls still, the tension draining from his shoulders. His face goes slack, the furrow in his brow smoothing out. 

Harry’s chest tightens with an unbearable fondness. “Good boy,” he whispers.

For the next two hours, Harry reads and signs dozens of documents. With his free hand, he pets and strokes Eggsy’s duckling-soft hair. Runs the back of his knuckles over his boy’s cheek and traces the stretch of those slick lips around his cock. He keeps up a constant murmur of praise. Tells Eggsy how well he’s behaving, how sweet and hot his mouth is, and how much Harry loves him. He’s not sure how much of his words Eggsy comprehends; all he gets in return are slow, dazed blinks. Every half hour or so, he’ll gently pull Eggsy off to offer a sip of water and the chance to rest his jaw. That’s when Harry wipes away the drool coating his boy’s chin and lips.

At some point, Roxy enters his office. She doesn’t bat an eye at the sight of Eggsy at Harry’s feet and nursing on his cock. Just says what she needs to say, and then leaves.

By the time Harry decides he’s had enough for the day—his work is never finished, and there’s a depressing stack of papers left to deal with—he’s fully hard. Eggsy’s jaw must be aching by now, but he hasn’t complained. In fact, when Harry tries to extract himself, Eggsy whines and suckles with renewed urgency.

Harry chuckles. He sets a hand on the back of Eggsy’s neck and applies a light pressure. “Go on, love,” he encourages. “You can have it now,” he says, like he’s the one doing Eggsy a favour, like he’s not two seconds away from coming.

Eggsy pulls off just enough to thank him. Then he slides back down his cock, putting that wicked tongue of his to use. Harry groans, head lolling back.


	7. Autofellatio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy and Harry after a honeypot mission.

Harry's got him folded in half. Eggsy's shins frame either side of his head and his dick dangles over his face, jerking and swaying every time Harry drives into him. He's leaking all over himself. Long strings of precome drool out of his slit and onto his chin.

Harry dips forward to kiss him, biting on his lower lip. "You're mine, darling boy," he says against the corner of Eggsy's mouth. "No one else gets to see you this debauched."

Eggsy can hardly breathe as it is in this position, let alone talk. With Harry fucking the breath out of him with every thrust, he feels almost faint, and god, he's giddy with it. Most of the time, Harry is heart achingly gentle with him when they have sex, cradling his face and kissing him deeply throughout. Don't get Eggsy wrong; he loves being treated like he's something precious and he loves it when Harry brings him to a slow but powerful orgasm. 

But when Harry gets rough with him, the way he always does after a honeypot mission… It drives Eggsy insane. Harry’s usual eloquence deteriorates into grunts and swears. He looks wild and beautiful when he's like this: hair curled free from his coiff, brows furrowed in concentration, and lips drawn into a snarl as he fucks Eggsy six ways to Sunday. It's a expression not unlike the one Harry wears when he's taking down an entire corridor of armed men with just his pistol and brolly. It's no wonder Eggsy gets hard watching Harry fight. Harry fucks him like he's staking a claim, and in this position, Eggsy is helpless to do anything but be claimed. He can't even touch his own dick. 

He is, however, flexible enough to get his mouth in himself. 

Eggsy tips his chin up. He sticks out his tongue just enough to lick his own cock. Then, eyes locked on Harry's, he closes his lips around the blunt head of it. The saltiness of precome spreads across his palate. It doesn't do much for him, sucking his own dick, but Harry reacts immediately, growling low in his chest. And, well, Eggsy has a thing for riling Harry up.

Harry groans. "You little tart. You'll be the death of me," he says. He leans forward and secures his hands around Eggsy's ankles. It forces Eggsy's dick down an extra inch in his mouth.

Eggsy hollows out his cheeks and sucks obligingly. Harry has slowed down his thrusts to languid undulations. Eggsy can't find it in himself to complain when Harry looks at him like he's absolutely mesmerized. 

"Hungry boy," Harry rasps. "You have no idea how sinful you look."

Eggsy makes a strangled noise when Harry wraps his fingers around the length he wasn't able to fit into his mouth. Eggsy pulls off with a wet gasp, throwing his head back against the pillow. 

Harry strokes him crude and fast. Gets a fist around the head of his cock and rubs there mercilessly. 

"Oh shit," Eggsy grunts.

"This is what you need, isn't it?" Harry murmurs. "Not some woman who will get on her knees for you and let you pull her hair." He laughs. "No, I think you're the one who belongs on his knees."

Harry pinches Eggsy's cock between his forefinger and thumb, and that combination of pleasure-pain tips him over the edge. Eggsy comes with a whimper—it's the only sound he has enough breath to make—eyes squeezing shut as he spurts over his own face. He can feel ribbons of come striping across his cheeks and eyelids.

Harry eases him down, supporting his low back with a large palm. As soon as he settled, Harry drapes over him like a hot, living blanket. He kisses Eggsy's forehead and eyelids, licking up the drops of come there. It's simultaneously dirty and oh so sweet. Eggsy makes a happy noise and squirms, throwing his arms over Harry's shoulders. 

Harry swipes his thumb across Eggsy's cheekbone, gathering up his release. Then, he slips his thumb into his mouth and sucks it clean. Eggsy's cock twitches in a valiant attempt to grow hard again. Harry smiles at him around the digit, eyes crinkling and dimples showing, and Eggsy is so utterly besotted. He gives Harry a loopy grin back.


	8. Omega Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on a mission, Harry enters pre-heat. Once back in their hotel room, Eggsy offers to let Harry scent him.

“Eggsy, I don’t want you to feel obligated to…” Harry makes a vague gesture with his hand.

“Harry. Shut up. Just let me do this for you, yeah? It’s not a big deal,” Eggsy says, like his hands aren’t shaking, like his heart isn’t beating somewhere up in his throat. He leans back onto the pillows piled against the headboard. Splays out his limbs, inviting.

Harry doesn’t move. His lips are pursed.

“What is it? Do I smell bad or something?” Eggsy asks jokingly. It’s a very real concern for him.

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Harry says, his voice strangled.

Eggsy tips his chin up and bares his neck. “Come on then, Harry,” he says. 

Hesitantly, Harry crawls into bed. He gives Eggsy an uncertain look and then takes a seat beside him. 

The scent of Harry’s pre-heat, honeyed and enticing, floods his nose and Eggsy can’t help it. He tenses. Holds his breath in his mouth.

Harry pulls away immediately, cheeks flushing with renewed colour. Before he can slither off the mattress, Eggsy grabs his hand. 

“Sorry,” Eggsy says. “That was just… unexpected. I’m okay. Come back?” And then with more insistence, he says, “Come here.”

Their bodies come together in a slow press. As soon as Harry is settled against his side, Eggsy wraps an arm around his waist to keep him close. He rubs soothing circles with his thumb into Harry’s hip bone. “There you are,” he says. 

Harry shifts and then turns his head to nose against Eggsy’s throat where his scent glands are.

Eggsy swallows thickly. Harry’s lips brush over his skin, and then the omega is truly scenting him, pressing his nose into Eggsy’s glands and then rubbing his cheek over it.

“Is this okay?” Harry asks.

“Y-yeah,” Eggsy manages. His cheeks burn. His entire being feels like it’s on fire, blazing white-hot at their points of contact even though they are both fully clothed.

Harry relaxes into him with a sigh, and Eggsy realises with a stupid sort of shock that the nudging against his thigh is, in fact, Harry’s arousal. 

Eggsy gets so hard so fast it hurts. His cock tents obscenely against his zipper, a pressure surrounding the base of it where his knot threatens to pop. 

Harry starts to rut against him, grinding his sweet omega cock into Eggsy’s hip. 

Eggsy’s stomach rolls. He’s either going to come in his pants or throw up. Harry, the only omega he has ever really wanted, is _grinding on him_. Eggsy doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Harry is shy about seeking relief, keeping the undulation of his hips shallow, like he’s worried he might scare Eggsy off somehow. 

“I’m sorry, Eggsy,” Harry grits out. “I can’t help it.”

He shushes the omega gently and nuzzles into his fluffy hair. “I know. It’s okay,” he says. “It’s okay.” He slides the hand on Harry’s hip to the swell of his ass. The movement is slow so that Harry knows what’s coming and can smack Eggsy’s hand away if his touch is not desired. He doesn’t think he’d be able to mask the hurt in his scent if Harry pushed him away, but this isn’t about him. 

To his delight, Harry welcomes his touch, arching his back and pressing his bum into Eggsy’s hand. Eggsy dips his fingers into the valley of Harry’s asscheeks. Pushes against the omega’s taint over the layers of fabric between them.

He wants to make this good for Harry, so that Harry might look at him like he’s a real alpha—someone worth mating—instead of a gormless pup. He knows he doesn’t have much to offer in terms of dowry or his pedigree. He dresses up in expensive suits and puts pomade in his hair, but he wonders if Harry still sees him as the street rat he picked up all those years ago. It’s what Eggsy sees when he looks at himself in the mirror. There’s the scar on his eyebrow from when Dean slashed his face and he ducked away just in time to avoid losing his eye. The skin of his left shoulder is pink and webbed, a reminder of the time when Dean held him against the stove element. What kind of alpha lets himself be walked all over like that? What kind of alpha can’t protect his omega mother and baby sister? 

The kind of alpha that isn’t worth a second glance.

Eggsy shoves aside those thoughts. Harry needs him right now. 

Harry’s making soft, pleased noises. His breath puffs ragged over Eggsy’s skin, hitching on a whine when Eggsy presses the tip of his middle finger over his clothed hole. Despite the fact that his mind must be hazing over with the delirium of his oncoming heat, Harry still seems to have remarkable control of himself. His moans are quiet, more sighs than anything. He doesn’t shed his clothes, doesn’t paw at Eggsy’s (hard) cock.

It’s a little disappointing, to be honest. That even when Harry’s biology is urging him to find mate, he still won’t consider Eggsy.

Eggsy rubs his finger over Harry’s entrance. Harry’s leaking so much that he has soaked through his briefs and trousers. He can feel how wet the omega is along the seam of his pants. He wants to swipe his fingers over the slick, without the obstruction of cloth between them. It would be so easy, he thinks, to sneak his fingers into Harry’s briefs, to slide a finger into that ready hole.

He refuses to be that kind of alpha.

“Eggsy,” Harry says, urgent. His hips spasm.

“What is it?” Eggsy asks. “Do you need to come?” 

Harry whines, right into his ear, and fuck if that ain’t the sweetest sound Eggsy has ever heard.

“Go on,” he encourages.

Harry closes his teeth over Eggsy’s neck, not hard enough to break skin and induce a bond. But the pressure is still there and Eggsy squeezes his eyes shut and pretends. He digs his fingernails into his palm to try and distract himself from the sensation of Harry seizing up bodily as his orgasm wracks him. The smell of Harry's release fills the air, ripe and heady.

With a huff, Harry flops against his shoulder. He's trembling and Eggsy aches to gather the omega in his arms and kiss him all over. 

“That was embarrassing,” Harry says with a breathless chuckle. “I came in my pants like a teenager.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIVE FOR OMEGA!HARRY


End file.
